


Things That Go Bump

by MlleMusketeer



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MlleMusketeer/pseuds/MlleMusketeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The local humans discover that it's better not to investigate strange electronic noises around the base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Go Bump

**Author's Note:**

> [A fill for this request on the kink meme.](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9293534#t9293534)
> 
> It came out rather milder than expected...

 

            “And _that_ is why I’m never going back to Florida.”

            June giggled, glad the kids weren’t around and wouldn’t be for another two hours. Agent Fowler grinned down at her and she was abruptly very glad she’d taken the afternoon off. “I didn’t know crocodiles could _do_ that,” she said.

            “Yeah, well, neither did anyone else on the team. One of the other agents—”

            **_Yyyyyooooowwwwwrrrrr…_**

            What one of the other agents had done remained untold, as Agent Fowler and June stopped dead in their tracks and looked at each other.

            “What in the Sam Hill was that?”

            “It seems to be coming from behind that door. Maybe their machinery is going wrong or something?”

            **_FwipfwipCLICKyyyyyoooowrrrrrrrEEEEEclick…_**

            “My car used to make a noise like that. The mechanic said it wasn’t something I needed to worry about,” said June, not liking the expression on Fowler’s face. “We should just mention it to Ratchet…”

            “That’s not a machine room. That’s living quarters,” said Agent Fowler.

            **_SssssssssfwipfwipTHUNKclickclickBEEPfwipEEE--_**

            “Oh,” said June, suddenly understanding his alarm. “You think...someone’s in trouble?”

            “That’s a bad noise to be coming from a machine. A really bad noise.”

            The noise in question settled into the arrhythmic _click_ of a failing hard drive, punctuated by a strident beep, like a fire alarm low on battery.

            “Jack’s laptop…”

            “Yeah, I _know_ what a busted computer sounds like. We’d better get Ratchet.”

            As if to punctuate his alarm, what was distinctively someone’s voice (Optimus’s? June wondered) scaled up from a pained cry into the **_eeeeeerrrrrreee-eeee-eee-eee_** of a slipping fanbelt, then into static.

            “We get help. _Now_ ,” snapped June and ran for the main room.

            She mentally kicked herself—those noises were bad, very bad, she should have gone for help immediately rather than gawking. For God’s sake, she worked in an emergency room! She knew that moments could make a difference and with someone’s life in the balance she’d been thinking about her _car_? She was an idiot—

            No Ratchet there, no Optimus either, but Bulkhead and Arcee, both straightening up at the arrival of the panting humans.

            “Hey,” Bulkhead started, but Agent Fowler got there before June did and blurted, “Someone’s in trouble. Living quarters. Sounds real bad.”

            Bulkhead could move fast. He offered a hand to June, who climbed up without hesitation, and set off toward the area in question. Arcee must have done similar for Agent Fowler; June could hear him talking to her, low and urgent.

            That sound was still going on when they came out into the corridor, a long screech of what had to be pain, and Bulkhead put June down well out of the way and threw himself hard against the door.

            It splintered. Bulkhead charged in.

            And stopped dead in his tracks so suddenly that Arcee blundered into his back.

            “Oh! I’m sorry! I just—Primus, I—uh…” He looked helplessly back at Arcee and Agent Fowler. Arcee wore an identical expression of utter embarrassment. Agent Fowler just looked dumbfounded. June peered around the door.

            There, in a universally, instantly, recognizable position, were Optimus and Ratchet, Optimus looking up over Ratchet’s shoulder with as much aplomb as could possibly be managed under the circumstances, hands still pinned over his head by Ratchet, whose expression of mortified horror far outstripped anyone else’s.

            Optimus tried to say something, produced a repeat of that _fwipfwip_ sound, tried again and said, “Has there been an emergency?”

 

\----

           

            “I did not know they did that.”

            “Yeah.”

            “I mean, they’re robots.”

            “Yeah.”

            “I mean, computers don’t hump!”

            “I know. But that noise was…”

            “I’d really prefer not to think about that now.”

            June nodded. Given the context, she’d never be able to put the car into reverse again without either feeling horribly embarrassed or laughing herself silly. Possibly both. At the same time. “I could really use a drink,” she said.

            “Me too. I did not need to top today off with giant robots shagging.”

            “You can say that again.”

            A pause.

            “About that drink…”

            “There’s a bar near my house. Let’s go.” 


End file.
